Henry David Thoreau

(12 July 1817 – 6 May 1862 / Concord, Massachusetts)

Rumors From An Aeolian Harp - Poem by Henry David Thoreau

There is a vale which none hath seen,
Where foot of man has never been,
Such as here lives with toil and strife,
An anxious and a sinful life.
There every virtue has its birth,
Ere it descends upon the earth,
And thither every deed returns,
Which in the generous bosom burns.

There love is warm, and youth is young,
And poetry is yet unsung.
For Virtue still adventures there,
And freely breathes her native air.

And ever, if you hearken well,
You still may hear its vesper bell,
And tread of high-souled men go by,
Their thoughts conversing with the sky.


Comments about Rumors From An Aeolian Harp by Henry David Thoreau

  • Captain Herbert Poetry (5/26/2015 11:50:00 PM)

    A supetb and a classic masterpiece (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • John Hardesty (5/26/2015 5:09:00 PM)

    Common verse, I truly expected more! (Report) Reply

  • Kim Barney (5/26/2015 1:41:00 PM)

    Old-fashioned language but still sounds good today. Excellent meter and rhyme scheme. (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: poetry, birth, sky, life



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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